


Possible (14/39?)

by Mexta



Series: Possible [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post-412
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexta/pseuds/Mexta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still at the clinic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible (14/39?)

They went into some kind of meeting room with a long narrow table, where Ian, the nurse, and a bored-looking young doctor were already waiting. Ian had his usual closed-off expression but he seemed a little paler than usual, and Mickey wished he'd brought something else for him to eat.

The doctor started off, telling them about Ian's condition in big words that mostly seemed to suggest what the rest of them already knew. There was some talk about further testing and bloodwork and waiting to make sure everything else was normal before coming to any conclusions, but Mickey could see that was just a formality. The doctor and nurse had obviously already decided what Ian's problem was and sounded like they were repeating speeches they'd made many times before. 

Lip seemed to be paying attention and made a few smart-ass comments as he always did, but Mickey tuned them out. The nurse talked for a while about what they could expect; even when they got Ian levelled out for now, he'd likely cycle through a few more swings before he was fully stabilized. And he'd probably always struggle with this condition; his life would never be completely normal. 

"Oh, so I guess that Ivy League degree and lucrative investment career isn't going to pan out after all," Lip said. "Man, we were counting on that."

Mickey wished he'd shut up. "So what do we do now?" he said impatiently. "How do we get him out of this -- mood?"

The doctor and the nurse exchanged glances. "We don't usually like to start someone on meds until till we've done all the bloodwork," the doctor began. "But given the severity here, I'm going to give him a couple of prescriptions -- provided you commit to getting him in to a lab within the next day or two."

Mickey started to answer, but Lip spoke up first. "Prescriptions for what?" he asked.

"A stabilizer and an SSRI. We'll start him on that and see how does. Once he cycles out of this phase we'll want to wean him off the SSRI." 

"How much?" Lip asked sharply.

_Fuck_. Mickey hadn't even thought of the cost of meds. His stomach churned at the idea of managing that on top of everything else.

But the nurse was speaking now. "We think Ian will qualify for our sponsored program. If he does, we provide the meds at no cost as long as he participates in the rest of the program. Which means attending regular therapy sessions with us."

For the first time, Ian showed a reaction. He gave a dry laugh that made Mickey jump. "Gallaghers don't do therapy," he said.

"They do if it saves a couple thou on pill bills," Lip said under his breath.

Mickey focused on Ian. "Ay. You serious, man? You don't wanna do this program?"

"I'm not saying that." As usual, Ian spoke slowly, and paused for a long time before he went on, while they all waited patiently. "How often?" he asked finally.

"Every second day to start," the nurse said. "An hour at a time. But there's one other thing." She hesitated, and glanced around at Debbie, Lip and Mickey. "We need the family to participate as well."

"What -- us?" Lip asked.

"Well, I'm not quite -- where are you parents?"

"Our mom's gone -- doesn't live with us -- and our dad's a dying drunk," Lip said briskly. "If you want family, you get us."

Mickey felt an urge to protest that somehow, but he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to say so he kept quiet for now. 

"So ... Ian lives with you?" the nurse asked.

Lip and Debbie glanced at each other. "Usually," Lip said finally.

Ian spoke abruptly, catching them by surprise again. "Mickey." 

They all looked at him. 

"Who's Mickey?" the nurse asked. 

"Me," Mickey answered, sure of himself on this point. "My real name. Mickey."

"Mickey's family too," Ian said with firmness.

The nurse gave Mickey a puzzled glance, and then looked back at Ian, frowning a little. "I'm not sure I -- what is Mickey's relationship to you?"

The room was completely quiet now. Mickey watched Ian, not breathing, waiting for his reply. Ian still hadn't looked at him. 

"He ... I'm staying with him," Ian said finally.

Was Ian finally learning to be discreet, or had they somehow broken up without him even knowing it? Either way, Mickey wasn't going to let himself be left out of this. "His boyfriend," he said, looking at the nurse defiantly. "I'm his boyfriend."

She raised her eyebrows. "Ian?"

Ian gave a tiny smile. "Yeah," he said. "He's my boyfriend." 

"Then he should be part of it. There's no limit on the number of family members who can participate actually. The more the better."

"Cool," Lip said. "We got a few more at home." 

***

It took a lot of discussion, but Ian eventually agreed to try the medications. The nurse spent a while going through possible side effects, describing which ones would go away, which ones they should worry about. After a while Ian seemed to just tune out, and Mickey, watching him closely, thought he saw him sway a little.

" _Hey_." Mickey cut in on the nurse. "I gotta get him home. He's gonna pass out."

Everyone turned toward Ian, the nurse looking alarmed. "Is he not well?"

"He's exhausted," Mickey said impatiently. "He hasn't been up for this long in days. And he's barely eaten. He needs to eat and get some rest."

They left with a couple of sheets of paper in Ian's hand and a shit-load of instructions in Mickey's head. They had to go to a blood lab the next day -- the nurse had located one in the southside that would be easy enough to get to -- and then be back at the clinic for Ian's therapy the following day, and the first family group session on Thursday. And in the meantime they had to get the prescriptions filled and start Ian taking the meds a couple of times daily, and the nurse wanted them to keep a diary of moods, diet, and reactions to the meds.

It looked like being sick was going to be a full-time job.


End file.
